


I Will Stay

by GeeYaa



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Based on a Tumblr Post, Blindness, But still a happy bunny, Canon Disabled Character, Charles can be really annoying, Erik You Slut, Erik is not a Happy Bunny, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, Honestly Charles What Are You Thinking, Illness, M/M, Mentions of miscarriage, Mind Control, Mpreg, Physical Disability, Pregnancy, SO, You're daddies!, and uh, but - Freeform, congrats boys!, mentions of pregnancy complications, okay but not nearly as dark as the tags make it sound, possibility of pregnancy complications, talk of medical treatment, this actually turned a little angsty, utter crack, whoops
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-04
Updated: 2014-07-31
Packaged: 2018-02-03 10:57:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1742294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GeeYaa/pseuds/GeeYaa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based of this fic request by <a href="http://catrionam-prideofportree-67.tumblr.com"> Catrionam-prideofportree-67 </a><a></a>: I want a cherik mpreg fic where Charles finds out he’s pregnant after the beach divorce and is FURIOUS. He can’t find Erik, since he’s using the helmet all the time, but he can find Raven and uses her as a human microphone while he rants and yells at Erik for knocking him up and then leaving him with no feeling in his legs, but he can feel his bloody waist just fine thank you! And he’s not going through CHILDBIRTH alone so get your stupid arse HOME! and then leave Erik and Raven blinking in shock and Emma Frost laughing her ass off.</p><p>After many requests, now becoming a multichapter fic - Thank you all so much for your support <3</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I saw this in the Cherik tag and just couldn't resist! I hope the requester isn't too disappointed by it, even though it turned kinda bittersweet and not as cracky as I'd hoped.
> 
> So after many requests, I'm deciding to make this into another pet project seeing as I'm nearly done with Hellfire and this got so many people asking for more! I have exams at the moment, but after the next few weeks I should be able to devote my full attention to this and my other writing so hopefully (if nothing goes wrong) I should be updating pretty regularly?
> 
> If you have anything you wish to ask or even anything you'd like to see in this fic, please don't hesitate to ask me on my [tumblr](http://gee-phee.tumblr.com/). Please address any questions to GEE as I do share the blog with my best friend Phee :)

"Are you serious?" Charles whispered, staring with a growing feeling of breathless hysteria at the ultrasound Hank had cobbled together last night. The younger mutant was staring just as hard at the grainy image, looking decidedly less stunned than Charles felt. Then again, it had been Hank that had pointed out the possibility, given his blood and urine test results.

He was  _sick_. Not pregnant. No way. That bastard hadn't gotten him pregnant as well. Hank winced slightly, shooting a wary sideways look at him. "I’m sorry Professor, but I am nearly 100% sure he has." Oh, so he projected that one. Oops.

The panic began to harden into something bitter and cloying.

"That fucking wanker," he spat, pushing himself into a sitting position, ignoring the cold gel still on his stomach, fully prepared to drop into his wheelchair himself. Hank scrambled to help before he could manage it, catching him before he fell and lowered him carefully into it. The telepath was half glad he had; the pain that would have surely come from that move would have made him regret it the next day.

Cursing under his breath in several dead languages (the benefits of a classical education), he pushed himself out of the lab and down the corridor. No matter how hard he had searched for him, Charles couldn't find Erik because of that stupid helmet, despite how much cerebro amplified his power. He had briefly entertained the idea of trying to find them through Raven's mind, but had considered it a vastly inappropriate breach of privacy, all things considered.

Now however, he had no such qualms. In fact he had no real qualms about anything right now. It was probably a good thing he wasn’t back on the beach in Cuba. Had he been this worked up at the time he might have just told Erik to shoot the bastards; or just choked Erik till he turned blue. That would be much more satisfying, he thought viciously. He waited impatiently for Hank to open the door for him, ignoring the fact that his angry journey through the mansion had attracted the attention of both Alex and Sean, who were trailing behind them like confused puppies.

"Boot her up, Hank," he commanded, satisfied that the furry mutant jumped to it almost immediately. He snatched cerebro's helmet - a sleeker design than anything the CIA could create - and thrust it onto his head.

"Professor, please think about what you're doing. You won't find Erik with his helmet on." Hank pleaded.

"Just  _do it_  Hank," he growled, ignoring the other boys' worried questions.

Hank sighed and flipped the final switch, opening the whole world to Charles' brain. The rush was familiar and heady. He used cerebro frequently, both to search for his missing friend and to find new students and faculty for his embryonic school.

He searched furiously for the familiar mind of his sister, and within minutes, he felt the bright spark of it brush against his consciousness. He was about to dive in when a wall of diamond slammed up, blocking him from Raven.

"Miss Frost," he greeted coldly, pushing a pulse of frustration at her interference.

"How rude of you, Professor Xavier, I thought you were better than that," she crooned, her mental voice amused at his annoyance.

"I need to speak to Erik immediately, and this is the only way he will listen," he replied tersely, furious at being blocked from his target. Again.

He could feel her smirk."True enough, but why the sudden urgency to speak to our fearless leader? Last I heard, you weren't exactly on speaking terms."

Charles thrust the information at her with a huff, feeling mildly embarrassed at her startled laugh, the embarrassment and frustration increasing as she dissolved into full on hysterics, not just in her mind, but physically and she let him view the looks of bewilderment on the faces of those around her, unused to the ice queen laughing till she was red in the face, seemingly over nothing. When Erik's face popped up in his mind, his anger returned, visceral and intense.

"Okay Sugar, I think you deserve this one,” she snickered “and congratulations.” and withdrew the mental shields she had placed around Raven, and he didn't hesitate before taking over.

He felt his sister's outrage, which flared up upon his entrance, recognizing the feel of him slipping into her mind after many years of it.

 _Sorry, Raven_ , he whispered,  _I need to talk to Erik._

"Erik Lehnsherr!" he snarled, utilizing Raven's ability to shift into a simulation of his own body. He included the wheelchair; fully aware that although Erik knew of his paralysis, he had never seen him with it - and he hoped the image would make him suffer. Judging by the way he flinched, it did.  _Good._

“I don’t care about your silly little pet project, or your misguided and frankly stupid attempt to destroy the human race but if you don’t come back home right now,  _I will fucking kill you myself."_  Erik's jaw dropped, though whether it was at his abrasiveness or the swearing Charles couldn't tell. Damn that helmet.

"You took my sister. You took my legs. And now I have come to find out you fucking  _knocked me up you inconsiderate wanker!_  You and your bloody super-sperm mutation that managed to hit the bloody target when there wasn’t one!" Raven's mind hiccuped in surprise, the protests to his invasion silencing almost immediately. 

"Despite everything you’ve done to me, I never demanded anything from you. I didn't demand your help with dealing with the fact you  _abandoned me bleeding on a beach with no fucking way home surrounded by angry humans with missiles._ I didn't demand you help me relearn how to live when you paralyzed me. And I certainly didn't demand that you persuade my sister to visit.

"But now I am demanding that you come home  _right now,_ because I definitely am not dealing with fucking  _childbirth_ on my own after everything else you've put me through. I can’t feel anything from my thighs down, but I can still feel everything above that, you fucking _dick._ " 

Emma began to giggle again, giving him a telepathic pat on the back.  _You are not helping,_  he groused at her. She only laughed harder.

Erik looked like a bomb had just gone off in his face, much like Raven; her mind was a torrent of confusion and a little bit of guilt. She regretted leaving him to deal with everything on his own, even if Erik didn't.

"C-Charles..." He stammered, his eyes wide, and his mouth hanging open. A familiar feeling of nausea began to spread in Charles' stomach.

"You had better come, Erik, or I will kill you," he reiterated, he felt his face (well, Raven's) blanch as the sickness grew. "Now, if you’ll excuse me. I'm going to vomit." 

oOo

He was still leant heavily over the toilet bowl, and precariously out of his wheelchair when he felt a cautious hand in his hair. He hadn't noticed before, what with dealing with his rebellious stomach, but he could hear shouting downstairs. His heart stuttered when he realised he could hear Raven's voice among the din. Which only meant the hand combing gently through his hair, and, now that he thought on it, the none existent mind that should accompany it, had to be Erik. He'd obviously had Azazel transport them to the mansion almost immediately.

"Take it off," he snapped, only to regret opening his mouth when his stomach clenched and caused another wave of vomiting to hit.

Erik said nothing, and continued to stroke his hair as Charles puked, but the telepath noted a chink of metal against tile and a quietly worried mind brushing against his.

To Charles' surprise, Erik pushed his thoughts at him clumsily. But the mind - which he had missed so much goddammit - was pulsing  _sorrysorrymissedyousorryit'sokaysorry_ with a poorly concealed feeling of disbelief, and a cautious joy which grew with each minute of comforting Charles.

"Are you sure?" Erik murmured after a few quiet moment, still combing his fingers through his hair, despite the fact that Charles finished vomiting minutes before.

"100%" he echoed Hank's previous words dimly,  finally looking at Erik with resignation.

Erik looked  _wrecked;_ he looked tired, and his clothes were rumpled and smelled of sulphur from the trip over, but his steel grey eyes soft, like he couldn't quite believe his luck, yet was terrified it would be taken away from him.

"What does this mean?" He whispered, his eyes sliding reverently down to Charles' still flat tummy.

The telepath sighed,  "it means we're having a baby."

Steel grey eyes snapped back to his, "for us," he clarified, "you seemed to have a definite plan ten minutes ago." 

Charles sighed again, suddenly exhausted. "I was angry. You don't have to stay." 

Erik's mind flinched, hurt by his response for some reason. Charles head hurt. "What if I want to?"

Charles snapped his gaze up to Erik's. "Then you do not leave. No matter how much you disagree with me, or how much you hate me - if you stay. You stay. I won't survive you leaving again. I won't have you as an inconsistent presence in our child's life. You are either there or you're not."

Erik's mind ground to a halt, the words  _ourchildourchildourchild_ spinning like a dizzying mantra in the man's head. Instead of pursuing that thought, he murmured, "I could never hate you."

Charles said nothing, just stared at Erik knelt next to him, a hand still absently caressing his hair. 

"I will stay," he murmured with a nod, lifting the hand not in the telepath's hair and placing it on Charles' stomach, as if he could reach out and touch their unborn child, his family. 

"I will stay."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been a little cautious about naming specific medications Charles may have had because I wasn't sure about how similar medications were in the sixties. Luckily though, morphine has been around since WW2, because it was developed fully from opiates (thank you high school history projects!); in fact as far as I remember from that project, most pain medication was just variations on the modern ones we have now. The differences with spinal treatment though I don't really know. So I'm mostly keeping the treatment side of things vague. 
> 
> So for this chapter I met with a friend who is a physiotherapist, and we hashed out a diagnosis that Charles could have, which still remained within the perimeters of the prompt. She also warned me about problems women could have whilst paralysed and pregnant, though she told me it was entirely possible. So for the sake of realism, this chapter goes a little into the diagnosis and briefly mentions the complications which can happen. However, these will be revisited later in the fic and explained in more detail, so if there's any medical terms you don't know (specifically the Autonomic Dysreflexia and Hyperreflexia), then don't worry, you don't need to really know what they mean just yet! It will be explained.
> 
> PLEASE REMEMBER; Though I do have experience with disabled people due to my volunteering for my social work degree, I am by no means an expert. All information I have got is through people I know, limited personal experiences and extensive googling (which may not be correct as we all know). I now have a pretty solid plan about how this story is going to go after so many of you lovely readers expressed an interest in seeing what started out as a silly prompt fill become a multichapter monstrosity ;)
> 
> Finally, a huge thank you to [Catrionam](http://catrionam-prideofportree-67.tumblr.com/) for prompting this idea, beta-ing and being great at giving ideas and pointing me in the right direction :) I'm sorry for not being a quicker writer, my dear!

Charles sniffled and rubbed a hand across his face, attempting- in a seemingly futile effort because goddammit his eyes were  _still watering_ \- to regain some of his composure. He’d sent Erik out a while ago, too furious to really enjoy - or even tolerate – his presence, despite the tentative accord they had struck. He’d left the helmet on the floor beside Charles, and he couldn’t even begin to parse the reason behind that move. He couldn’t have done it by accident. Let it be known to all the world that Erik Lehnsherr always has to have a goddamn  _purpose._  

Not that mutant freedom wasn’t a worthwhile goal; but Charles would rather liked Erik’s aims to point less in the homicidal direction, thank you.

Truth be told, Charles was wary. Despite his words to the contrary, Charles knew barely anything about Erik. His saying otherwise was arrogant posturing. Oh, sure, he knew Erik’s history; where he came from, and the trials and tribulations he’d endured to get where he was – but only a telepath could tell you that knowing someone is a far cry from  _knowing_  someone.

Unlike many minds he had encountered over his life, Erik’s mind was alive with a passion he had never experienced before. He had been, and still remained, a paradox; sharp and focused, but chaotic, furious and  _desperate_  to get to Shaw, muddying his thoughts and holding him back.

It was sad really; he could achieve so much good if he tried.

 He wiped his mouth and sat back up in his wheelchair, reaching over to flush his vomit down the toilet. Charles looked down at the helmet on the floor, and pursed his lips, considering. There was no way he could reach it without the help of the mechanical arm that Hank adjusted to pick up pretty much anything. So he resolved to just leave it; it would survive for the night.

As he crossed the threshold of his bathroom door, he caught Hank’s anxious thoughts hovering in the hallway outside.  _Come on in, Hank. Tell me what’s bothering you._

The blue mutant shuffled nervously through the door, still clutching at the clipboard with Charles’ test results. “Um, I’ll need to run a few more tests Charles,” Hank said, waving the clipboard a little.

 “What on earth for? We know I’m pregnant, and we know how long I’ve been pregnant. What else is there to know?” Charles pinched the bridge of his nose, not wanting to subject himself to more poking and prodding in any more sensitive areas. Mostly he wanted to curl up in bed and sleep, preferably until it was time for the baby to be born.

 Hank shifted from foot to foot. “A lot of the treatment you had for your spine isn’t exactly good for pregnant women – uh, not that, you’re a woman or- uh, anyway. And x-rays, though generally safe in small doses, a lot of them at one time can be harmful for the fetus.”

 Charles frowned and dropped a hand to his stomach. Through his jumper, he looked pretty much the same as usual, though underneath he knew he was getting a little soft around the middle. He’d figured it was just because he spent all his days sat in a wheelchair, but clearly it was something else. But surely, five months later, he should be showing more? He voiced his concern to Hank, “Could that be why I’m not showing yet? Are we talking growth issues or…?”

 Hank grimaced, but shrugged, “You’re only five months pregnant, with your first child. It’s not uncommon to not be showing much up to six months. Though I did notice a little weight gain when doing the ultrasound, so my main worry isn’t size at the moment. I’m more concerned about heart troubles or poor development. I mean, the baby looked okay during the ultrasound, but I admit I didn’t really look as closely as I should have,” he trailed off, shrugging his huge shoulders and managing to look sheepish, even through his fearsome look, “From your blood tests, I knew you must be pregnant, but reading about it, and seeing it are two different things.”

 Charles rubbed his stomach again, troubled. “What kind of tests?”

 Hank pushed his glasses up his lionish nose, and moved further into the room. “Well I want to do another ultrasound, and check your blood pressure and BMI. I’ve still got some samples left from your blood tests, so I don’t need to take more of them, but if possible, I would like some more urine samples.”

 “Okay,” he sighed, “but go get Erik; I think he’ll want to be there.” He nodded and left Charles alone for the moment. He’d never even thought about the complications that might be caused by his treatment, he knew academically that there was a good chance that the child would have some developmental problems. They hadn’t even considered how the pregnancy would affect his barely healed back injury, especially as he got heavier.

 His injury was diagnosed as an incomplete, posterior cord injury. The injury sat at the base of his spine; the bullet had damaged the back of his spinal cord, and he knew that as the baby grew, the weight would press down on the injury as he sat down in his chair.

The idea of childbirth scared him shitless too; in terms of paraplegia, he’d been lucky. He’d been left with full control of his bodily functions, and had full sensation just below his groin, until it began to peter out and completely disappeared mid-thigh. But this meant he would definitely be able to feel the contractions which would come part and parcel of delivering the baby. Not that they knew how that would work either.

 He headed down to Hank’s lab and tried to calm his fretting. They knew nothing yet, so there was no reason for him to worry. He and Hank had suspected the X-genome had contributed as to why he’d emerged from Cuba so lucky; after the incident, they’d done research which had showed patterns of elevated healing among mutants. Hank also suspected a slightly longer life-span, but it wasn’t something they could prove.

 It was possible that his luck with the X-genome would extend to his child, and would help protect the child from the potentially harmful agents that had been introduced during the first trimester. He could only hope.

 Charles was pulled from his worrying at the sight of Erik at the lab door, watching him approach down the corridor. “Hank didn’t really tell me what this was for?” He sounded cautious, like he was afraid that Charles would start shouting at him again. Honestly, Charles wanted to, but he was far too tired to even try.

 “I had a lot of x-rays and medication for my spine that isn’t exactly pregnancy friendly. In the first trimester, it could lead to… complications,” Erik paused in his act of opening the door for Charles to stare down at him.

 “Complications?” he growled, and Charles felt the metal in his wheelchair shiver.

 “I don’t know; we’ll find out. Though Hank reckoned the baby was okay in the first ultrasound, he said that he wants to check, just in case.” His wheelchair was practically vibrating under him. “Erik, stop it. You’re making me itch.” The movement cut off instantly.

 Hank turned around from fiddling with the sonogram machine at the sound of their entrance, and waved the tube of gel around, “This first, if that’s okay, Professor?”

 Charles grimaced, thinking of how cold it had been on his skin the last time. “Yes, okay, let’s just get this over with.”

 The medical table was too high for Charles to transfer onto himself, so he wrapped an arm around Hank’s neck as he leant down to pick him up. Though Erik’s thoughts had mental walls, barbed wire, and possibly fucking  _guard dogs –_  not that he couldn’t get through it easily, but that Erik’s mind literally screamed  _DO NOT LOOK –_ Charles heard a quiver of dissatisfaction coming from him. When he looked over, he saw that Erik’s eyes were trained on Hank’s arms that were wrapped around him, as if they would burn a hole in the young scientist’s arms. Charles glared back at the metal bender until he looked up and caught his disapproval. He at least had the decency to colour slightly and glance away.

Hank deposited him on the table, and made sure he was sat steadily on the edge before turning to continue to fiddle with the ultrasound. Charles sighed and pulled off his jumper, ignoring Erik as he moved forward to help. He wasn’t so useless that he couldn’t take his own clothes off. Well, his pants were a struggle, but he managed perfectly fine.

 Once his shirt was unbuttoned and his shirtsleeves pushed up, Hank wrapped the inflatable cuff of the sphygmomanometer around his bicep, and began pumping, then scribbling the readings down on his clipboard. He then allowed Charles to settle himself on his back, picking his legs up and arranging them carefully on the table before lying down.

 The gel was just as cold as he remembered it, but it warmed quickly on his stomach whilst Hank pressed the wand to his stomach and set up the ultrasound. Erik hovered, as was turning out to be a pattern of his, by Charles’ head, his mind prodding at Charles’ telepathy out of nervousness. It was giving him a headache.

 “Erik,” he snapped, his patience waning, “I swear, I’m nervous enough already, so if you don’t stop panicking so loudly I will kick you out.”Erik scowled at him in response, and thought pointedly at him,  _It’s not like I can control it, Charles._

 _Well try,_ he projected waspishly. He probably shouldn’t take it out on Erik, this was his child too; he had a right to worry. It didn’t stop him being furious at him for so much as breathing.

 Whilst Charles and Erik glared and argued silently at each other, they hadn’t noticed that Hank had finished setting up the screen, and was examining the grainy picture with narrowed eyes. It was Erik who noticed first, and the way which the noise in his mind ground to a halt, and how his eyes widened drew Charles’ attention. Looking at the screen was like a bizarre sense of de ja vu. The image was much the same as it had been an hour ago, except the vaguely baby shaped blob in the middle of the screen had shifted somewhat, making it easier to make out.

 Charles tried to make out any deformations or issues, but he was hopelessly out of his depth. It made him wonder how Hank knew this stuff. The telepath felt a wall of emotion crash down on him from Erik’s mind. It was a complex tapestry of wonder and disbelief, not that he could blame him; Charles was pretty disbelieving himself. And happy. Even though he was  _really fucking pissed off with Erik right now_ , he was beginning to warm up to his situation. Which he wouldn’t be admitting to Erik. No bloody way.

 Even so, Charles reached a hand up towards Erik, holding his palm out as an offering of support without taking his eyes away from the image of their child. Erik took it gladly, lacing his fingers with Charles' and squeezing gently. They put aside their differences for a moment; just existing together peacefully, if only for a while.

 Hank broke the moment with a nervous cough, eyeing their joined hands. "As far as I can tell, everything’s fine, but we won't know about anything like mental or sensory disabilities until after he's born but-"

 "He?" Erik asked sharply, finally looking away from the ultrasound.

 Hank blinked, surprised, before stuttering out an, “Oh, yeah, um… con-congratulations?”

 A boy. They were having a boy.

 “His heartbeat is regular and strong, and he is a little small, but not worryingly so.”

A little boy. His -  _their_  little boy.

 “Your blood pressure is a little high, Professor, but we can regulate it. Also, we need to talk about your diet…”

 A healthy baby boy, no less. Charles’ eyes burned with unshed tears, and he suspected Erik was having a similar problem.

 “… so I’ll be sorting out a nutrition plan and gentle exercises for you, and we’ll take it one step at a time…”

 Charles looked up at Erik, and admired how the usual stern lines of his face had softened, and warm affection – once familiar to him – gleamed in his eyes as he stared at his son’s picture.

 “… we may have problems with your injury as you get heavier and Autonomic Dysreflexia and Hyperreflexia will have to be looked out for, but I’m hoping we won’t have a problem with it because of where your line of feeling stops…”

 “Hank,” Charles murmured, interrupting the scientist as he got deeper into technicalities of the months to come. “Please, shut up.”

Hank seemed to wilt slightly, under his whiskers drooped and he stammered an apology. Charles sighed internally; he suspected he could have worded that better. “We can talk particulars tomorrow, Hank. But for now, may we have a moment?” The telepath felt the young man’s mind light up with understanding, and he became instantly mollified. He nodded happily and began to make his way out of the room.

 Before he reached the door however, he stopped and turned to Erik. “Keep him away from tea Erik, he’s not allowed it.”

 Charles blinked and propped himself up on his hands, in surprised outrage. “What?! Why?”

 “A lot of tea is terrible for pregnant women. No more than one cup a day can be risky, and you’ve had more than that today.”

 “But I don’t drink a lot of tea!” He protested. Both men snorted, but Charles only glared mutinously at Erik.

 “The 7 empty mugs I saw in your office this afternoon, Charles, beg to differ,” Erik cut in, smirking down at Charles who spluttered furiously. Insufferable man. Charles wanted nothing more than to make him think he was a 12 year old girl. Wildly unethical, but he found he didn’t really care. He also had a sneaking suspicion his homicidal/mind manipulating urges would only get stronger and more frequent as his pregnancy progressed. 

Coping with that without regular tea… well. It didn’t bode well for the rest of the household.

 This would be a long few months.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, a thanks to you all for the excitement you've shown over this work. I hope I live up to your expectations! 
> 
> Thank you all for reading, and stay tuned for the next chapter! :D
> 
> Please remember to show your support by COMMENT/KUDOS/SUBSCRIBING to the story! Its always appreciated!
> 
> *kisses*

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first thing I've ever written remotely like this, so I hope I did okay! 
> 
> A special thanks to [ Catrionam](http://catrionam-prideofportree-67.tumblr.com) for betaing this and helping me with sound-boarding ideas, she's given me so much to work with already (including the original fic idea!), that I think this will turn out to be a great project :D
> 
> SHOW YOUR SUPPORT BY COMMENTING/KUDOS/SUBSCRIBING. 
> 
> By the way I love you all. You're fab. <3
> 
> Remember, any questions or anything you would like to see in this fic, please don't hesitate to contact me on my [tumblr](http://gee-phee.tumblr.com/), and address any questions to Gee ;)


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